The Eventual Spread
by whispers65
Summary: As the United Kingdom succumbs to the Rage Virus, society grinds to a halt. Public utilities and military intervention quickly deteriorates into mass chaos of epic proportions. The only hope is to flee. George and Martha, and elderly couple, have two choices – Paris or New York. They chose New York. This story will encompass the infection from the very beginning in the United State


Selena (28 Days Later) – "It started as rioting. But right from the beginning you knew this was different. Because it was happening in small villages, market towns. And then it wasn't on the TV any more. It was in the street outside. It was coming in through your windows. It was a virus. An infection. You didn't need a doctor to tell you that. It was the blood. It was something in the blood. By the time they tried to evacuate the cities it was already too late. Army blockades were overrun. And that's when the exodus started. Before the TV and radio stopped broadcasting there were reports of infection in Paris and New York. We didn't hear anything more after that."

* * *

Heathrow International Airport, London, England

"Bloody hell, Martha, this is a mess."

"George, you know I don't like you swearing like that." Martha said. "It's just a spot of bother. That's all."

"A spot of bother?" George said, "You call this a spot of bother?" George was incredulous. "This is bloody well chaos." He grounded to a halt in the middle of the concourse. People ran by bumping and screaming. There were loud frantic calls over the main speaker to remain calm and evacuate the terminal. George and Martha had every intention of evacuating but not staying in London or in any part of the United Kingdom for that matter. They were jumping over the pond and heading straight to New York as planned. The only problem was that everyone else seemed to have the same idea. George tugged sharply at Martha's sleeve jerking her to a stop. Grabbing her left arm, he pointed over to his far left. "Do you see those two blokes over there?"

"George, you are hurting me." George stared into Martha's eyes. She looked distance and annoyed. Then she looked down and started rifling through her purse, not paying him any attention.

"Martha? Focus. The gentlemen over there." He pointed, "Do you see them?"

"I think I left the keys to the flat. I can't find them." She looked up into his eyes. "What?"

"Forget about the keys." She looked at him dumbfounded. "Not me. Over there. Those two men. Do you see them?" George asked.

Martha eyes followed George's outstretched arm and down to his left index finger and kept following until she saw.

"I see them." She shrugged, "What?"

"What? I don't know if you happened to notice but one of those blokes is chewing the fuck out of the others throat."

"George, the language." Martha patted him on the shoulder. She didn't get it. Maybe it was shock.

"And over there…" George's words stopped. He almost pointed to a child, but let his arm fall flat. He quickly embraced Martha by the shoulders and physically turned her away before she dared to look. "On second thought, don't look. We should hurry. What gate is it again?"

"Gate nine." Martha looked out of the terminal. "Or at least I think it was nine. I could look at the tickets again. They are in my purse somewhere."

George could see her eyes already trailing down to her purse. He glanced over his shoulder. He had never seen so many people in the airport before. There were men, women, and children screaming and running, attacking and being attacked. And then there was the blood. Lots of it. It was everywhere. "Forget the tickets. We'll look at them later. Maybe the plane hasn't landed yet. Maybe they switched gates. Let's try Gate 8. I see a plane over there."

"I hope we still have seats by the window." Martha smiled, "You know I like to look out the window."

George hurried Martha out of the Terminal onto the tarmac. Before them stood a lone United Airlines Boeing 737-800 with the door open, boarding stairs and baggage cart all intact.

George just hoped it was the right flight. He took a quick look back over his shoulder to make sure those things, those people or whatever they were weren't following.


End file.
